


Coming Around

by fucker



Category: Chitty Chitty Bang Bang - All Media Types, Trouble in the Heights (2011)
Genre: Choking, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Hand Jobs, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:54:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26252977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fucker/pseuds/fucker
Summary: There's exactlyoneperson in the world that Nevada would be willing to be seen at an amusement park for.
Relationships: Caractacus Potts/Nevada Ramirez
Comments: 1
Kudos: 29
Collections: Nevactacus





	Coming Around

**Author's Note:**

  * For [adrianna_m_scovill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrianna_m_scovill/gifts).



> I haven't been to Coney Island in years and obviously the only reason anyone would visit this page is to vet my knowledge of Deno's, so I apologize in advance for the inaccuracies.
> 
> I'm working on my Chilton requests, I swear 😬

"You said all you wanted was a hot dog," Nevada complained, shifting restlessly from foot to foot on the boardwalk. 

"All I wanted _was_ a hot dog." Caractacus, double-fisting the Nathan's that Nevada had treated him to, gestured up at the Ferris wheel in front of them. "I didn't know all this was here."

"You didn't know there was a carousel." Nevada narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "At Coney Island."

"It's not a caro—" Caractacus scowled at the smug look on Nevada's face, realizing that he was playing dumb. "I had no idea, I swear."

"Well, now you know."

"Come on, Nevada, just one ride?"

"How 'bout a ride at home instead, huh?" Nevada stepped close enough to press himself against Caractacus's ass, rolling his hips in a highly suggestive, _offensively_ indiscreet manner.

Caractacus glanced nervously up and down the boardwalk, but thankfully most locals had better things to be doing at two o'clock on a Thursday afternoon, and the damp weather was keeping all but the hardiest of tourists at bay. He leaned back against Nevada's chest and took an obscenely large bite of his hot dog; slowly, deliberately chewing, swallowing and licking a stray drop of mustard from his lower lip. "Why not both?"

Nevada, as predictably juvenile as ever when faced with the sight of Caractacus consuming vaguely phallic foods, broke into a grin. "Alright, you know how to drive a bargain, Potts."

* * *

"You're not scared of heights, are you?"

"Not scared of shit," Nevada muttered, watching the ride attendant close and fasten the flimsy door after them. "Heights and me just ain't friends, is all."

"Nevada, why didn't you say something?" Caractacus leaned out over the rail and raised a hand to flag down the ride attendant, but Nevada grabbed him by the wrist and hauled him back into his seat. 

" _Oye_ , I said I'm not scared. And saying no to you's like kicking a fuckin' puppy."

Despite his protests, Nevada flinched as the ride jerked into motion and Caractacus was hit with a stab of guilt. He leaned forward and set a hand on Nevada's knee, gently running his palm back and forth over worn black denim. "Nothing's going to happen, I promise."

" _Lo sé_." Nevada glanced over the side of the car as they began to ascend, gripping the edge of his seat far too tightly to go unnoticed. "But what if it does?"

"It won't," Caractacus assured him. "Swear on my life, 'Vada."

"I _know_ it won't, but what if it does?"

"If you know it won't, then—"

"'S called an irrational fear for a reason, _cabrón_ ," Nevada snapped, glaring up at Caractacus with worryingly little venom behind his scowl. "Are you gonna get over here and comfort me, or what?"

"Move over, _gordito_." 

"Oh, you got jokes in two languages now, huh?" Nevada's scowl deepened, but he gingerly moved to his right to make space nonetheless, keeping his eyes glued to the floor to avoid accidentally looking down. "I can understand that accent better'n the one you speak English with."

"Yeah, yeah, I say aluminum and mobile the wrong way." Caractacus slid out of his seat and crouched awkwardly on the steel floor, keeping himself as low as possible to avoid swinging the car too much as he turned to join Nevada on the opposite bench. "You doing okay?"

"Never better."

The painfully tight grip on Caractacus's thigh begged to differ, but he didn't mention it. Nor did he bring up the fact that Nevada was shaking in his seat; slight enough that it could have gone unnoticed had he not been pressed tightly against Caractacus's side. _For safety_ , Caractacus thought, his heart swelling a bit at the oddly intimate moment of vulnerability. He carefully laced his fingers between Nevada's, stroking the side of his thumb as his shakes slowly subsided to no more than gentle, periodic shivers.

"Hey." He gently nudged Nevada as they reached the top of the ride in an effort to drag his attention away from the floor. "Look, this is as high as it goes, see?"

"Too fuckin' high," Nevada muttered, glancing over the edge of the car with a grimace. He inched closer to Caractacus but stoically kept his gaze up, looking out over the boardwalk and the shoreline just beyond. "Lucky the weather's piss today."

"Lucky?"

"Sure, otherwise you'd be able to see Jersey across there." He nodded towards the water; grey, choppy with whitecaps and too fogged in to see anything but a vague shadow of the far shore.

The fact that he was feeling well enough to shit on New Jersey was a small comfort to Caractacus, who couldn't help but smile at the stupid joke. He was looking considerably less green around the gills as they began to descend, his grip on Caractacus's leg easing up and the tension slowly subsiding from his arms and shoulders.

"Not so bad, right?"

"I guess it ain't the worst." Nevada shrugged, clearly still uncomfortable but no longer trembling; more at ease now that he'd lived through the worst part. He sat back in his seat and stretched, draping an arm around Caractacus's shoulders and crossing his legs on the opposite bench with a somewhat forced air of nonchalance. "View's alright."

Caractacus gasped in surprise as Nevada's free hand settled just to the right of his fly, long fingers tracing the line of his inseam. "'Vada, what are you—"

"Taking my mind off the fact that this thing's gonna come loose any second now and roll into the ocean with us on it."

"Fine, if that helps." Caractacus eyed Nevada's wandering fingers with no small amount of distrust. "But you are _not_ going to get me off in the middle of an amusement park."

"No?" Nevada prodded at the head of Caractacus's cock through his shorts with remarkable precision, grinning as the inventor snapped his thighs together with a guilty glance towards the ride operator. "Think you can last fifteen minutes?"

"Fifteen minutes?" Caractacus laughed, calling Nevada's bluff in a heartbeat. "You're lucky if you get five on these things."

"'S cute when you're cocky." Nevada mussed his hair in a maddeningly patronizing manner. "You get as long as you want when you tip the kid running the ride."

"So not only did you get on despite being scared, but you paid to stay on _longer_?"

"You're using that word a whole lot for someone who can't even be in the same room as a spider."

Caractacus beamed at Nevada, ignoring the dig. "You must really like me."

"What, it ain't obvious?" Nevada wiggled his fingers against Caractacus's clothed cock, already showing interest despite the inventor's best efforts. "I don't let just anyone get away with spitting, you know."

"That was one time," Caractacus protested, color rising on his cheeks as he caught the look of amusement on Nevada's face out of the corner of his eye. "I just wasn't expecting it to— to taste like that."

"Woulda been the last date for anyone else."

"That's what you call a _date_?"

"Alright, it woulda been the last time I stuffed my cock in anyone else's face."

Caractacus just rolled his eyes in response, by now accustomed to the vulgarities that Nevada was in the habit of throwing around. 

"Know why I kept you around?"

"Because you like how the pillows smell like me after I spend the night?" 

"Nah." That much was true, and how the inventor had sussed it out Nevada wasn't sure, but he scoffed and waved it away without missing a beat. "Because I like the noises you make when you choke on it."

Caractacus couldn't help the way his stomach tightened at the compliment, crude and backhanded though it may have been. He felt himself twitch against Nevada's fingers and, to his dismay, the smug look on Nevada's face told him that he'd felt it too. 

Nevada tightened the arm around Caractacus's shoulders and pulled him closer, running his fingers up the inventor's throat to cup him just below the jaw and ease his head back. He smiled at Caractacus's look of apprehension and slowly, deliberately dragged a thumb over his crown to coax a soft, frustrated whimper from him.

"Know what I'm doing when we get home?"

Caractacus shook his head, swallowing hard as the hand on his thigh slid higher. Nevada lightly caressed the full length of his erection before his fingers found the seam of Caractacus's zipper and curled up underneath to stroke the back of his balls. His hands were uncharacteristically gentle and undemanding, the way Caractacus would normally have to bargain for when he wasn't in the mood for hard and fast, and he found himself spreading his legs without thinking about it, interested to see where this was going. 

"Guess."

The only other people on the ride were in not the car directly above them, but the one above that— he had no idea whether that had been on Nevada's request or not, but under the circumstances the extra breathing room didn't go unappreciated. Each car was semi-enclosed, with a thin fiberglass roof providing minimal protection from the elements and, more importantly, eliminating the possibility of any prying eyes from above. With the height of the wheel offering potential onlookers no more than a head-and-shoulders view and a stiff breeze to carry their voices far enough that the source would be indiscernible, Caractacus barely had to weigh the risks. 

He moaned quietly and let his head fall back against Nevada's shoulder, his pulse pounding fast and hot under the older man's palm. "...Me?"

"Mmm. This mouth." Nevada brushed his lower lip with a fingertip, groaning under his breath as Caractacus instinctively parted his lips to let Nevada's thumb slip inside. "And you're gonna take it _all_ for me."

It was a challenge disguised as a demand, and one that Caractacus was more than happy to rise to. It wasn't so much _taking_ it that was the issue for him— he'd done that countless times at this point. It was keeping it down that was the real struggle; fighting his body's instincts for ten, twenty seconds at a time while his eyes teared up, his throat contracted erratically around Nevada, and his brain screamed for oxygen. It was exhilarating in the best way, extended periods of lightheadedness followed by the heavy, grounding rush of air into his lungs over and over and over, keeping him suspended in a state of desperate, breathless arousal until Nevada had had his fun. 

He hummed in acknowledgement, letting his teeth graze the pad of Nevada's thumb with practiced precision, followed quickly by the flat of his tongue. A sharp intake of breath next to his ear indicated Nevada's approval and Caractacus, conditioned to expect the graphic profanities that would normally follow a sound like that, couldn't help but tighten in anticipation. He sucked gently at the finger in his mouth, his tongue slowly coaxing it deeper in an attempt to earn the praise he so badly wanted without seeming too desperate.

"That's it, just like my cock." As if reading his mind, Nevada pushed his way to the back of Caractacus's throat without warning, rough enough to bury his second knuckle and a considerable portion of his palm between the inventor's lips with a single motion.

Caractacus's eyes widened in surprise and he gagged despite his best efforts, letting out a muffled curse around Nevada's hand. 

"Tight in all the right places." Nevada reclaimed his thumb and carelessly wiped it on Caractacus's cheek, leaving a broad smear of saliva behind and ignoring the indignant huff he got in return. He slid his hand downwards, cradling the inventor's windpipe, and smiled as Caractacus shuddered under his touch. "You'd let me fuck you on this thing, wouldn't you."

Caractacus looked around. There was about as much risk involved as there was messing around in a locked bathroom stall— less, really, if you considered the fact that nobody could just walk in— but the open air and the people down below, the fact that he could see the traffic on Surf Avenue and the trains periodically pulling to a stop at the end of the line, it all added a certain sense of danger that made the adrenaline flow just a little bit heavier and his heart pound just a little bit faster. He turned back to Nevada, eyes wide and lips slightly parted.

"Right here, right now. You'd do it."

Blown pupils added a dangerously salacious edge to Nevada's otherwise unaffected expression, and Caractacus bit his lip. The hard knot of trepidation in his stomach had begun to swell and soften around the edges where it mixed with the light thrill of being up so high, the warm pride he felt at watching Nevada stare his fears down, and the growing tightness of arousal. Caractacus felt a bit like prey, trapped and at Nevada's mercy, but he somehow found himself willing to take things a step farther. He nodded hesitantly, bracing himself for orders that didn't come.

"Huh," was all that Nevada said.

Caractacus ground his teeth in frustration but said nothing. As much as he wanted to be mad at being wound up, his brain in its current state could only focus on one thing at a time, and the long, calloused fingers tracing delicate circles around his Adam's apple were proving to be a very effective distraction. 

Nevada slipped his right hand into Caractacus's pocket, making a questioning noise low in his throat as he found the inventor fully hard and beginning to soak through his boxers. " _Fuck_ ," he groaned, roughly thumbing at Caractacus's leaking slit through the thin fabric. "Shit, I've never seen you this bad in public before."

Caractacus screwed his eyes shut, head spinning as Nevada's fingers simultaneously tightened around his throat and his cock, robbing him of the ability to think straight. He swore, bucked, and very nearly came, throbbing in Nevada's loose fist as the muscles in his back and thighs strained with the effort of holding back. A soft moan slipped past his lips, the sound roughened by the constricting pressure of Nevada's hand.

"That's it." Nevada loosened his grip as Caractacus's chest began to heave, letting him breathe for a moment while he buried his face in the side of the inventor's exposed neck and ran his tongue over the heated, sensitive skin just below his ear. " _Otra vez_."

He tightened his hold again, and it was Caractacus's turn to cling to the edge of his seat, knuckles white and teeth gritted as he stubbornly fought the urge to thrust into Nevada's fist, refusing to give him the satisfaction. He could breathe, but barely; cartilage bowing under the pressure from Nevada's hand and restricting him to short, shallow gasps that came faster and more desperate as Nevada's fingers slid up his shaft, nearing his crown at a torturous pace and threatening to tear an orgasm from him with a single slow, precise stroke.

"What d'you think, Potts, you gonna—" Nevada cursed as the ride jerked and began to slow, his expression flickering from surprise to panic to frustration as he realized what was happening. 

"Lose track of time?" Caractacus asked innocently, unable to refrain from goading Nevada despite the fact that he was hoarse, flushed, sweating through the back of his shirt, and dizzy with arousal. 

" _Escúchame con mucha atención_." Nevada dropped his voice to a low growl and leaned in close enough that his beard brushed Caractacus's ear with every word. "We're gonna get off this ride and head straight to the car, and you're gonna keep me warm until we get home. _¿Entiendes?_ "

Caractacus suppressed a shudder and nervously cleared his throat, painfully aware of the fact that he was blushing furiously. "Keep you warm?"

"With your ass, _pendejo_ , you need me to spell it out?"

Caractacus shook his head, knowing that it was about to be spelled out for him regardless. Nevada gripped him by the wrist, pulled Caractacus's hand to the bulge in his jeans, and laced their fingers together over his strained zipper, pressing the inventor's palm tight against his erection. 

"You're gonna sit on this, and Rodrigo is gonna take the long way home. Give you plenty of time to get comfortable for me."

'Get comfortable' was emphasized with a tight stroke, Nevada's hand keeping Caractacus's firmly in place even as their car swung to a stop no more than a few yards from the small cluster of tourists waiting on the platform. He released his grip on the furiously blushing inventor mere seconds before the ride operator stepped up to let them off, smirking slightly as the young man— clearly both intimidated and embarrassed— averted his eyes.

"Up." 

Still trembling slightly, a very red Caractacus rose unsteadily to his feet, hands cupped over his crotch for modesty's sake. While Nevada's fitted jeans kept everything in place, making his situation look fully intentional and nothing short of enticing, Caractacus's shorts were too loose to do anything but tent obscenely over his erection. He grimaced and looked to Nevada for assistance, getting nothing but an infuriatingly smug, unhelpful and unapologetic shrug in response. 

" _Vamos_."

Walking backwards, Nevada watched with amusement as Caractacus awkwardly shuffled back onto solid ground, letting him take another dozen bowlegged paces with as much dignity as he could muster. He finally took pity on the inventor, shrugged his jacket off and handed it over, slowing down for a moment to allow Caractacus to situate it over his arm. 

"So," Caractacus quickly calculated Nevada's reach and fell back a step, placing himself just outside. "King of the Heights, huh?"

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to [message](https://fuckerao3.tumblr.com/ask) or [DM](https://www.tumblr.com/message/fuckerao3) me with questions, suggestions, or requests (no promises), or if you'd like to beta!


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